Call Me Storm Child

Rarely do you come across someone who loves the rain. I do. I love looking out at it and listening to the powerful thunder. I love storms. The sheer, raw power never fails to amaze me.

Many years ago, during Hurricane Georges (or Opal? I can’t remember now…) I was living in the panhandle of Florida. The storm was headed for a direct hit on us and I don’t remember fearing it. Perhaps I should, in light of what it can do. But I was excited. I remember walking outside in the eye of the storm. It was serene and surreal. All around me I saw the darkness of the storm- except for where I was standing. The sun shone brightly on the mess of tree branches and leaves. The green of the leaves and grass was shiny from the dampness. The colors of the buildings and sidewalks seemed to intensify. It was incredibly beautiful and devastating in one clear moment. Then the sky darkened overhead again and we rode out the rest of the storm inside the building.

A few days ago I was working out at our dealership. The air was cool and almost palpable with rain. What I thought was mist rolling in was actually rain. As I drove in, I came over the mountain and the sight almost took my breath away. The hills were patchworked with the autumn colors and the mist made the mountaintops look like they were floating. I parked the car and stood outside taking in the beauty of the moment. I stayed there until the rain started in earnest. In those silent moments before the rain begins you can smell the dampness in the air and hear the rustle of the dry leaves. It’s a transporting and peaceful time.

Then the storm begins and despite the noise, there is a stillness that exists. No one cares to brave the elements and there are fewer cars on the roads. I love that. I may be a big city girl but sometimes I have a country girl’s heart.

If you haven’t guessed, today is a rainy day. I’m enjoying the coziness of the indoors and my quiet office. I hope I don’t fall asleep at work…storms are my lullabies.

For now,

Call me Storm Child